


five

by antpelts



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Apologies, Canon Compliant, Developing Relationship, Feelings Realization, M/M, Post-Canon, Prom, Trauma, its a five times fic, uh.. not much really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:34:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23569912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antpelts/pseuds/antpelts
Summary: five times rich apologized to michael, one time michael tried to apologize to rich
Relationships: Rich Goranski/Michael Mell
Comments: 8
Kudos: 62





	five

_ 1, you never really understood his devotion _

“Thorry.” It was basically a garbled whisper and Rich wished he could punish himself for it. Punish himself for not enunciating. For the lisp. For talking without thinking. A sharp blow to the back of his head - it practically became a tick over the years.

The full body cast prevented that. Maybe that was good.

“Huh?” Michael’s head jerked up from where he was next to Jeremy’s bed. There was an almost uncomfortable distance, he sat in the furthest chair.

“I thaid I’m, uh, thorry.” Rich’s face creased with an unreadable expression. He couldn’t really turn his head away so he let his gaze fix on the tv. “I know it’th not enough but.. you got rid of them, right?”

Michael was nodding when Rich spared him a glance, fidgeting with his phone in his lap.

“Then.. you thaved my.. life, I, uh.” Shit, where did that come from? It really wasn’t the time to be hinting at the fact he would’ve kept trying to kill himself to just be free of that shiny little hivemind. “Tho.. I jutht wanted to thay that I’m thorry.”

With a slight cringe he dropped his gaze again, he still didn’t have the easiest time controlling himself and if not for the distance between them Michael would have seen the spittle coming from his lips. He tried to pretend that he hadn’t probably  _ heard _ it in the way he spoke.

“Uh, yeah dude.”

Rich was sure that was the end of it until the rustle of clothes alerted him to the face that Michael was moving. Shit. He made it weird and now he would leave and  _ god  _ he really was worthless without someone telling him everything-

“Tell me about it?” He’d moved seats, now a few feet away from Rich, phone face down on his lap. “Unless, shit. Sorry you probably don’t wanna think about it.”

“Yeah, I mean. Yeah.” Rich grit his teeth at how fucking stupid he sounded, raking his brain for anything to say. “Fuck, why not. I.. be patient with me though?”

There was something unspoken there,  _ ‘be patient with me I might have a flashback’  _ or a panic attack, or.. cry. Michael seemed to get it, nodding his head a bit as he sunk into the chair.

Talking got easier.

Every time it felt less like there was cotton in his mouth - he spit less.

It became routine, Michael would show up and check on Jeremy and then he’d take his new spot next to Rich. He took the closer seat. Not the farther one.

Not that Rich was paying attention to that.

* * *

_ 2, you understood it less when it shifted to you _

“I think people are getting over it. From what I can see.” 

For some reason Michael was still visiting him. Jeremy had been discharged nearly a week ago.

“Like.. I’ve heard people are just concerned now? There’s bad people but I mean.. high schoolers, you know?” Michael continued, itching at his arm nervously. “Jeremy said everyone is worried about you, uh, Jake and them. They all kinda.. talked about squip stuff? They know you had one now. They’ve kinda welcomed me and Jer into the group.. everyone’s super chill now.”

Rich was still quiet, fingers dragging along his bed sheets now that he had mobility. It was nice to be out of the cast but.. weird. It almost became some fucked up security blanket.

Though, without it his real recovery could begin, including but not limited to his burn rehab. Rehab. He’d thought it was funny that it was called that. In some roundabout way the squip sent him to rehab, he was in rehab because of a drug, basically. Why was that funny to him?

“Because we’re dumb teenagers and dumb shit is funny,” Michael offered out with a chuckle.

Oh. He’d said that out loud.

“Sure did bud.” Michael’s voice made him flush, he really needed to keep his brain and mouth in check. “C’mon, focus. Tell me what Rich Goranski is thinking about right now.”

“Why are you thtill here?”

“Hm?” There was a hum and Michael’s brow creased for a moment. “Oh.. Well, honestly? At first I just felt really bad because no one had visited you from Halloween to the play.. It felt weird. Made my stomach hurt, I don’t even want to think of how shitty it must have been, trapped in your head with that.. that thing.”

Pity, it was out of pity. He should have known. It shouldn’t have made his throat feel tight.

“And then we kept talking? I don’t know. It’s nice being here and having someone to talk to who isn’t Jer.” Michael had disclosed only a few days prior that things were still pretty weird. “Maybe it’s dumb, considering you were an asshole. But.. emphasis on were, yeah? I thought.. I dunno, I thought we were, uh, could be.. friends?”

“Thorry, I uh. I wathn’t trying to.. be confrontational.” Way to go Rich, using a big word to avoid any ‘s’ he could, as if he hadn’t already spat up a whole lake with every other word. Avoiding ‘s’s only worked if he avoided all of them. “I, uh, think we are? Or could be. Friendth, uh. Yeah.”

With a wince he turned his head, trying to hide the heat lighting up his cheeks.

“Friends. Yeah.”

“I jutht,” it was blurted out, immediately following Michael’s words, “didn’t think you’d forgive me.”

There was a beat of silence where Rich felt tears prick in his eyes and words kept tumbling out, “becauthe I am thorry. I’m _ really _ thorry. But I know that won’t make everything go away. You didn’t detherve any of.. any of it.” He bit his tongue, he still tried to rephrase where he could,  _ ‘any of this shit.’  _ He’d forced out enough ‘s’s in that sentence already, it was time to stop talking. 

“I know,” Michael spoke softly, letting his gaze drop. “Therapy’s got me working on believing that. But you know that doesn’t mean you deserved it. Maybe it was your fault, sure. You were.. scared and sad. Someone took advantage of that and then the squip took advantage of  _ you.  _ All that shit you did won’t go away like it never happened but.. it’s a lot easier to forgive you knowing what was going on in your head.”

It was quiet for a moment and Rich bit his tongue to keep himself from apologizing again.

“Really,” Michael continued, softly, “I’m not minimizing everything to make you feel better but I’ve talked about this, like, in therapy and, like, you could have done worse. You were.. mean and backhanded, but.. I don’t even want to think about what it was telling you about yourself to get you there. I.. I don’t want to overstep? I guess? But, you were basically going through fucking  _ conversion therapy  _ with that thing in your head, weren’t you?”

Rich winced, fingers tightening where they curled around his bed sheets. A silent confirmation.

“It’s not hard to act homophobic when you’re literally getting.. fucking tortured for being bi.” Michael’s gaze softened and he pulled one leg up, tucking it under him. He was getting comfortable, Rich knew that meant he’d be staying for at least another half hour. “We’re not gonna become best friends overnight but.. I do accept your apology, Rich.”

_ We’re not gonna become best friends overnight. _

That was open ended. Michael could see them becoming best friends? No. He was reading too far into it - it was just a saying.

* * *

_ 3, you ask yourself what it is, why does he do it _

Of course school was weird. To Rich’s disappointment he was able to heal enough to return for second semester, granted he missed the first week back. 

It was almost worse that way. Everyone had already reconnected, all the talk of winter holidays and vacations had faded quickly. Everything was supposed to be  _ normal  _ now and Rich needed a fucking novel-length guidebook to keep up.

Instead, he started skipping lunch and spent a lot of time in the nurse’s office. He spent the whole half hour of lunch eating a bag of chips and applying his topical ointments painfully slow. No one bothered him there, if anyone else was even there. The stray sick kid was usually laying on some cot with their back to him. He preferred it that way.

“Rich!” 

No. No no no. He didn’t want this, he wanted to hide away with the nurse and eat his ‘lunch’ in silence. As Michael jogged towards him he heard the sound of shoes hitting linoleum - it was too much. Soon he was blocking his path and Rich was glad they were out of sight from the cafeteria. Not that.. not that he didn’t want to be seen with Michael. From what he gathered Michael shared lunch with not only Jeremy but Jenna, Chloe, Brooke, Christine, and Jake now. Somehow everyone had merged when he was gone and.. he felt left out. Regardless, it wasn’t because of Michael. He just didn’t want people to look at  _ him  _ because when he looked up and saw Michael’s face (two parts quirked in confusion, one part furrowed in concern), he thought he would cry. 

That was  _ not  _ what he needed.

“You haven’t been at lunch.. everyone’s been kinda worried.”

Then why didn’t  _ they  _ come? Why just Michael?

“Because, dude. They think  _ you’re  _ mad or something. For them not visiting or.. whatever. Or like, worried you wouldn’t want to be friends anymore without the squip.”

He really needed to get his fucking mouth and brain in check.

“I.. thorry.” He winced, no matter how hard he tried to force the ‘s’ out like the squip had made him he wasn’t perfect and it still wormed its way out. Inevitable. “I’m..  _ sorry.  _ Really.”

There was no answer but Michael’s expression softened, a slight smile playing on his lips. Not that Rich was looking at his lips.

“I know man. C’mon man, I told you. Quit apologizing, just keep  _ acting  _ on it.” A hand came to settle on Rich’s shoulder and he felt his breath leave him with a shudder. His body curled in, just slightly, pressing into Michael’s touch.

Michael was hugging him, why was he hugging him?

“You looked like you needed it? I..”

Rich fought to keep his mouth snapped shut for once, just bringing his arms up until he was holding onto Michael’s hoodie like he was about to fall off.. fall off.. something. Fucking stellar commentary. He just buried his face into Michael’s shoulder. Words weren’t important.

* * *

_ 4, you want to ask him, but youre scared of the answer _

“Th.. sorry. You don’t have too if.. you think, uh,” Rich stumbled through his words. Why did everything he wanted to say have an ‘s’ in it? Just say it, Rich. Say it.  _ ‘If you think it’s too weird.’ _

“Dude, it’s fine.”

Maybe it was alright, to shut off his brain and just let all his thoughts tumble out sometimes. He raised his eyes to see Michael grab his burn cream, hair flopped over his forehead. He wasn’t wearing his hoodie and.. his arms looked nice. Nice. Was that really all he had to say? They looked.. sturdy, maybe not from any sort of practiced weightlifting or anything but.. sturdy nonetheless. Like he could pick Rich up. Okay, yeah. He was glad that he was able to keep his mouth shut  _ sometimes.  _

After a brief pause his fingers curled around the edge of his shirt, tugging it off before he lowered himself to lay. Something about it felt intimate. The bed shifted as Michael inched closer, leaning over Rich now. His fingers were cold as they met the small of Rich’s back, smoothing some burn ointment there.

“How have you been doing this by yourself? Why haven’t you asked for help, dude?”

“Bec..Becauthe it would be.. weird to athk.” He cringed, there really wasn’t a way to avoid the lisp that time. He’d gotten pretty decent at twisting around to cover the parts of his back where the skin was damaged but.. he’d pulled his shoulder at the gym and it just felt embarrassing. After some offhand comment during his gaming session with Michael he found himself face down on his bed, shirt off. The insistence was strange, to say the least. What did Michael care if he could put fucking ointment on? His brow creased where he was pressed against the pillow.

“I care because you said you missed like.. a few days you were supposed to do. And since you missed a few days you complained that your back hurt. I mean, you want to heal as much as you can, don’t you?” Shoulders tensed beneath Michael’s fingers.

“Won’t make any differe..” He frowned, pressing his face further into the pillow. How stupid, how fucking stupid. He couldn’t even  _ talk.  _ “You.. you  _ see  _ how bad it..”

Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes and it only served to make him more angry, tilting his head so that Michael wouldn’t be able to pick up on it. How stupid.

“They’re not gonna go away, I know but.. it’s for your sake. For your comfort.”

Michael sounded.. something. Rich couldn’t quite place it, he sounded upset in a way. His hand stilled for a second where it hovered over his shoulder blades. Guilt found its way into Rich’s chest, here was this boy who was putting burn ointment on his back, who took time out of his day to do something for someone else. Michael was  _ always  _ doing something for someone else and lately it had been  _ him.  _ Selfish. Selfish.

“I..” The words seemed to die in his throat and he was left wondering if it even mattered anymore. He pictured Michael’s face, soft, understanding. A hesitant smile, eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m.. thorry.”

This time he pictured the way Michael’s nose would scrunch up, he had a way of breezing past apologies Rich had noticed. Emotions were weird. He didn’t blame him.

A short hum was the only response he got and he closed his eyes, focusing on feeling Michael’s hands. They smoothed over his shoulders before brushing over his lower back again. He tried to imagine what Michael was seeing, his back wasn’t soft, his skin was awkward. It wasn’t flattering.

If only he could see what Michael saw, something soft, something healing. The incandescent lights above them cast a warm glow across his skin letting his eyes catch on the freckles that dotted over toned shoulders. Broad shoulders. Soft skin faded into rough skin faded into grafts. If thoughts fell from Michael’s mouth as easily they did Rich’s all he would hear would be soft praise, a question to the world at large.  _ Why?  _ What did the world get from taking a beautiful boy and pulling him down, sending him to the ground with a well timed hit, making him believe he could never come back from it?

There was no answer.

All there was was Rich and Michael. Warm skin chilled from the smooth ointments and lotions. Tensing muscles as they entered into each other’s personal space, relaxing shoulders as they decided there was nothing to worry about. 

“You know.. you know I am thorry, right?” It was quiet, muffled by the pillow where Rich had kept his face pressed. Michael was done with his back but he wanted it to sit before he covered it back up with a shirt. 

“Yeah, I know.” It sounded more convincing than before.

“For everything.”

“I know, Richie.”

Huh. Maybe it’d be okay.

* * *

_ 5, you think hes the answer, that scares you _

They were drunk. Maybe a little high.

At some point it became normal for Rich to spend his time curled up in a bean bag chair in Michael’s basement. 

Everyone was at some sort of half party at Brooke’s place. They didn’t call them parties but they kind of were. Rich was surprised that Jake would still go to things. Maybe normal people had better ways of dealing with trauma. Maybe for other people it was a bad time but it wasn’t necessarily trauma. Did he have trauma?

“Yes.” Michael’s voice was soft, even if a little blunt as he looked at his empty plastic shot glass. That’s why they weren’t at the party. Trauma. Prolonged trauma. He had trauma. 

Did Michael have trauma?

“Yes.” It was quieter this time and Rich winced, he should have tried harder to keep that one from slipping out.

“Thorry.”

A silence settled between them as Michael leaned over to pour them each another shot. The perks of an older brother. Michael passed him his and they both tipped their heads back, making faces at the taste. It was warm, though, Rich had to give it that.

The room was spinning, his head felt light. He squinted, trying to make Michael quit moving. Why was he moving?

“I’m not.”

Rich grabbed at the sides of his head, fingers lacing tight in his hair. What the fuck was wrong with him? How did everything just slip out, constantly? He tugged on his hair, curling in on himself as he let out a ragged breath. His eyes were tightly shut, anything to stop the spinning.

He heard Michael shift and after a second he felt hands settle on top of his own, easing his fingers into linking with Rich’s until he could pull his hands away. There was a silence as Michael stayed there, crouched in front of him, holding his hands. When he opened his eyes he knew what to expect, Michael’s brow furrowed in confusion and worry.

That was something he’d grown used to.

It was too much to look at.

Instead he closed his eyes and the space between them. Hands fell apart, moving to hold onto each other’s faces. It was messy, their lips were wet with spit, teeth clacked as Rich tried to get  _ closer.  _ Michael fell back from where he’d been balanced, sitting on the floor. Rich followed, crawling into his lap. They were kissing again.

Skin felt hot, too hot. He grabbed onto Michael’s hair, pulling until he couldn’t hold back a gasp anymore. It felt good. Michael’s hands felt good on his hips.

What was he doing?

Tears built up in his eyes, finally breaking free. They dropped off his cheeks and on to Michael’s, making him flinch. As he pulled back Rich all but collapsed, slumping against Michael as he choked out a strained sob.

“I’m thorry. Fuck.” Words faded into a whine as he rubbed at his face, burning with embarrassment. He scrambled backwards, falling on his ass onto the carpet. “God.. I, uh, I’m thorry.”

Michael didn’t say anything, he just leaned forwards, putting his arms around Rich. They sat there, nearly in silence, as Rich tried to calm his breathing.

“Thorry.”

* * *

_ +1, youre still scared but.. he helps _

They didn’t talk about it, pretending they were too drunk to remember.

Things seemed normal though, they even did prom.

As friends.

Right?

“Rich?” Michael’s voice pulled him out of his head, his hands settling on either side of his shoulders.

“Hm?” He’d gotten better at keeping his thoughts to himself now. Sometimes he’d let something slip through, though, sometimes it was easier to just let things happen. Talking wasn’t something he relished. Even if it was with Michael. 

Michael.

They were standing close and he quirked his brow in a question to Rich. He stepped back, holding out a hand. They didn’t need words to understand,  _ ‘want to dance?’.  _ It was slow, that didn’t bother him. Rich’s hands settled on Michael as he entered his space and Michael slung arms around Rich’s shoulders. It felt right.

Michael was leaning in, whispering in his ear to look at Jeremy - he was dancing with Christine, something awkward in the way he moved. Rich’s head bumped Michael’s shoulder as a laugh broke from his lips.

His lips.

Michael was leaning his head and Rich couldn’t help but tip his up.

Michael was kissing him. At prom.

The music felt louder and quieter at the same time, his breath caught and for a second he really forgot how to kiss. All he could think about was Michael. Over the last few months he’d found himself focusing more on the curl of his hair, the crease he’d get on his nose when he’d make a face, his little ticks, how he’d push up his glasses even when they didn’t slip.

“Shit, did I.. uh. Sorry, I didn’t,” Michael’s words were filling the space between them and Rich’s eyes shot open when he realized they were kissing anymore. “I’m sorry, I.. I just thought..”

It wasn’t like Michael, to seem so uncertain.

Rich just pulled him back in, palms pressing on Michael’s cheeks and they were kissing again.

“Don’t be,” Rich mumbled against his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> always love kudos and comments! <3


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